


The Ghosts That Haunt

by taichara



Category: Gundam 00, Gundam 00 & Anno Domini Gundam, Gundam 00P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:36:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Sometimes it's not what hurt you, it's what hurts others that keeps you around.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _prompt:_ "someone else's ghost"

Grim places, Celestial Being's hidden hangars, these blighted days. They'd been handed a raw deal and then some, Meisters scattered to the winds and support staff hiding in the shadows and clinging to whatever scraps they could while Krung Thep turned dark and sinister.

_Not how I expected to spend eternity, really._

He just couldn't let it go.

He couldn't let himself go.

Unseen, unheard, Lockon slowly padded (or maybe 'drifted'; but he didn't want to think of that) along a catwalk, staring down at Dynames' wreckage. There were other Gundam present; ominous black machines he didn't recognize, Nadleeh, another one in blue that resembled one of the black suits ...

Tieria had come to the hangar not an hour before and Lockon's heart had gone out to him. Every barrier Nadleeh's Meister had built up (and there must have been dozens, Lockon reckoned) was shattered; he looked lost, and alone, and ...

_And I don't know if he heard me._

He'd tried, though, oh how he'd tried to plant a reassuring hand on one tense shoulder, to reassure his comrade -- former comrade? no, damn it, it didn't end because one of them was dead! -- that somehow it'd come out alright. But he didn't know if Tieria heard him, or felt him, or ...

_Or if I should even be trying._

Regret washed like a black tide and Lockon leaned weightlessly against the catwalk's rail.

_Do I even have the right to try, after what I did?_

\-- Not to himself. He'd thrown himself away by his own choice, dark impulse that it was. But to the others, left behind; the ones he'd hurt, selfishly hurt. But no. Even as he thought it Lockon dismissed it as excuses and worse. It wasn't a _right_ ; it was a _duty_ , after what he'd done. 

It was what he _wanted_.

Why else was he haunting -- yes, haunting -- Celestial Being's shattered wreck, if not for that?

_I just wish ..._

A flicker of motion caught his attention, a shadowy figure moving across the platform at the catwalk's far end. Alert now, Lockon closed the distance in deathly swiftness with no thought as to what he could possibly do when he got there -- and found himself greeted by a slow salute of sorts from the figure in black and white. 

He stopped so quickly he nearly fell through the railing.

"You can ...?"

"I am no more alive than you are, Lockon Stratos."

Calm voice, low and controlled; something prickled at the back of Lockon's mind. Those clothes ... some kind of fancy uniform? Something about it all looked familiar. A flash of memory, of a haunted-looking CB agent with grey hair. Then this man in black and white must be -- must have also been -- part of Celestial Being.

Behind darkened glasses, grey eyes watched Lockon with something a good deal like wistful resignation.

"I do wonder which of us is more surprised by this turn of events, Dynames' Meister. I don't know what you may have expected after death, but this ..."

\-- a faint hint of a smile --

"... I hardly expected one of us to _have_ an afterlife. Imagine my surprise."

'One of us'. Lockon eyed the stranger, tensing despite the lack of physical form. There was something about the too-smooth flesh of the man's face, the way he moved --

"You're like Tieria."

"I was."

There was a strange note in the man's voice as he responded, even as his attention drifted across the mobile suits gathered below like so many battered corpses. He winced when he saw Nadleeh, visibly flinched at one of the black machines, and Lockon found this all very interesting indeed. He leaned on the railing again, fist planted on cheekbone, watching his unexpected company curiously.

"You know me, but I don't recognize you. That's not exactly fair, you know, and I don't think CB's obsession with secrets needs to extend to dead guys."

The man jerked back, black hair rippling behind him, and had the grace to look faintly embarrassed as he adjusted the glasses he surely no longer needed.

"... That's fair. Entirely fair. Grave Violento, Celestial Being agent and Meister for Gundam Rasiel. And we've never met, Lockon, although I had thought we might at one time. Before a good many things spiraled out of control."

"Oh, so? Why's that."

The little smile came back, regretful now.

"Because I was the one who scouted you, and recommended you to Veda. Similarly for the Meister you know as Allelujah Haptism, and Tieria ... Tieria Erde, no, but I did test him, my partner and I."

Oh, now _that_ was interesting, all of it. Lockon eyed the man, searching his memory -- that hair was distinctive, if nothing else -- wait ... He slapped his hand on the railing (slipping halfway through it in the process), startled enough to laugh.

"Wait a damn minute! I remember you, you were off on the other side of a plaza in Ulster and looked ready to permanently attach your palm to your face, a bunch of wierdos with shrubbery were babbling at you."

Ouch. Grave sighed ruefully, attention drifting back to the suits once again.

"That would be me, yes. And you saw that. Well, I suppose half the civilians present were no doubt watching the show by that point, and no harm really caused."

Fair enough, then, but that wasn't the only thing prickling at Lockon, not at all. For a long moment he just watched Grave, then stared out over the hangar himself; when he finally spoke up again it was without bothering to turn and face the other dead man. It was easier to say the words without making eye contact.

"So what brings you lurking around here? You have your reasons, same as me, or haunts don't happen, but this's a long way out from when you were a Meister, isn't it."

Statement, not question. Grave heaved an unnecessary sigh, his hands trying to tighten on the railing.

"There are ... There is someone, several someones, I want to see through to the end of this. Of the Plan, of all of it. 

"One -- one I have spent years attempting to reach, and failing, until, perhaps, very recently. One, I think listens. The other is Tieria Erde ... and I think we have an interest in common, there, unless I miss my guess."

No guess at all. Lockon simply shrugged; he wasn't about to deny that Tieria was a major factor in his continuing on. That would've been a disservice, and Tieria was hurting enough as it was.

"It's not fair that he finally starting letting himself feel something and then everything went to hell, and it's even less fair that I was a selfish enough bastard to drop so much of that on him in the first place. If I can help him find his way through it now ... Hell, I'd do it anyway. I wish Allelujah and Setsuna were here. We were a team. But Tieria ...

"Tieria needs to know he's not alone, and he's not a failure. That it's not wrong to hurt. And damn it, I wish I could give him more than a dead guy trying to haunt him into feeling better."

Another long silence passed. Lockon, scratching at his scalp, felt a prickle of embarrassment for his impromptu speech -- then Grave shook his head, shoulders drooping. The sound that came out of him was half laughter, half a sob, and Lockon stared at him. Grave waved off the concern without looking up.

"... That's -- all these years ... All this time I've thought Veda destroyed him, ripped all compassion out of him when it purged his memory. But no. He'd not -- he wouldn't be what you described if he'd been so utterly rewritten. Just barriers put up to keep the pain away, how very _human_ ..."

"Yeah, well, you're all more human than that stupid computer wants you to think, you ask me."

Lockon dropped into a companionable slouch on the rail, close enough to Grave that he nearly leaned on stray black locks in the process. Grave shot him a sidewise look from behind his glasses; Lockon shrugged and winked, smiling.

"You've been lurking around for years now, right? See? And I guess I'm just as glad you are, because I was already starting to want to chew my hand off. 

"We might as well work together with this; maybe I can help you reach your other friends while we're at it."

A look of surprise flickered across Grave's face before a chuckle -- true laughter, this time -- escaped him and he nodded once.

"You're right. You are very right, Lockon, and I think I can say after all these years that I made the right decision, choosing you. ... And here we both are. Working together, after all. How strange fate can be."

"Yeah, well, if CB's fate's riding on two dead men somehow I doubt _that's_ ever been factored into Veda's precious plan."

More laughter. Lockon felt his own grim shadow lifting. Well, it might be the weirdest mission he ever took and the most unlikely partner ever, but -- it could be worse?

"Come on, let's go see if we can't whisper in a few ears."


End file.
